Tuesday, November 15, 2005

Jimmy's Talking Flute

I am one hour away from the Gilmore Girls - yes, it's Tuesday! I only watch it because my kids like it - really, that's the only reason. Really.

Tomorrow night I'm going to see Death Cab for Cutie with my sister!

On my NPR Pop Culture podcast they were talking about the DVD releases of Sid and Marty Croft's Saturday morning t.v. shows - like Lidsville and HR Pufnstuff. I don't know if I could stand to watch those shows again (although I did find a funny web site about a short lived "World of Sid and Marty Kroft" theme park, which opened and closed in Georgia in 1976). The NPR story said there were veiled drug references - the smoking mushrooms, the "lid" the PUFnstuff - well it was the '70's, but that seems a bit silly. And they are talking about the possibility of a big screen version of Pufnstuff. No. Just please, no.

If you are under thirty, the previous paragraph will mean nothing to you. Nor the title of tonight's posting.

I know On Beauty was nominated for the Booker Award, but I am skimming the end. I just don't care about any of the characters in it. And there's scenes with professors and students that are just, silly. Conversations unlike anything I've heard between professors and students.

I am, however, enjoying the Bride of Science. Ada hasn't really arrived yet, except for a brief reference to her in the beginning. Right now it's about Byron and Lady Byron and the catastrophe of their wedding.

The bad sonnet of yesterday had a line in it I actually liked.

Tonight after class was over I walked out of the library building and the sky was a deep Maxfield Parrish blue. And I heard geese overhead. The moon followed me all the way home.

2 comments:

stefani said...

I just cannot see a big screen version of HR Puff-n-Stuff. When I see parts of the show now that I am older I cannot believe that I used to watch it. LOL!

Zanni said...

I'm feeling homesick for our old group. Yes, poems. Geez, what will I send...lots of them are real silly these days.

Love,
Z